His eyes never left her face. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. . Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset.
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